


A Hint of Comfort

by wibbilywobbilycombatwombat



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Affection, Comfort, Cuddle, F/M, Flirty, Fluff, Friendship, Vices & Virtues (Album), cold days, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-26 22:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17754674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibbilywobbilycombatwombat/pseuds/wibbilywobbilycombatwombat
Summary: Coming in out of the cold to a loving friendship.





	1. Trade Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't really planning on posting again, but recently I got some kudos for the first time in a while and realized you might be looking for comfort, given the time of year. Why didn't I plan on posting again? Well, I've come to the conclusion that I'm a lesbian and I'm not comfortable writing about boys the way I did before, nor am I comfortable writing about girls that way. I've decided to give you something themed more around intimate friendship than romance. I hope this gives you comfort. That's all I ever hope for with what I share with you.

He's waiting for you, out in the cold, hands shoved in his coat pockets. His breath fogs before his face. 

"Oh." You say, but you mean it as "hello." He flashes you a tired-eye smile, injected with compassion. "Are you going to walk with me? I haven't seen you in a while, Brendon." 

"Yeah, I'll walk with you." 

He matches your trudging gait through frozen ground and sidewalks. He takes a deep breath. 

"So..." For a long minute, he makes no vocal attempt to continue the thought. "I missed this." 

"Me too," You say, "So... Where have you been?" 

"Here and there." He sighs. 

The wind gusts around you and you tuck your chin into your scarf. 

"Will you take me away from here?" You ask, looking down the street before daring to look at him for an answer. He clucks his tongue. 

"I dunnooo..." He pushes his shoulder into yours playfully. You laugh and shove him back. 

"Mr. Disco?" You prompt as he laughs. He gives in, grins, and looks around like he's about to do something controversial.

"Yeah, alright." 

You beam and take his hand. He leads you into a nearby staircase and pushes open a door. You shake off the promise of snow and shed your coat to the floor as he closes the door. He smiles at you as you wrap your scarf around your hand and then unravel it to the floor. It's dimly lit, but warm. There are no windows, no indication of time or weather outside. No clocks either. Just a couch, and blankets piled high on it. You throw yourself down onto the cushions and pry off your wet, cold shoes, then your damp socks. 

"Anything else you want to take off?" He smirks, and you chuck your hat at him. You tuck your tired feet under yourself and drape yourself with an old blanket. After removing his shoes and coat, he joins you under the blanket. You struggle to both fit under the undersized covering, ending up pressed together like pages. It's easy to fall asleep.


	2. Stall Me

The cruel and cold wind stings the exposed skin on your face and rips away the air you need to inhale. You step into the lobby, tearing the frozen stiff scarf from your face and gasping for breath. He's waiting. 

"Fuck." You tell him as way of greeting. 

"Come warm up with me." He responds. 

It's not so much that he's irresistible, standing there in sweatpants, or even that his voice envelopes you in a warm, sleepy feeling, that makes you take his hand. It's just that he's there. That's enough. He's like drinking coffee on a day you don't have anything to do. Watching him smile is like lounging in the sunlight. You take off your boots and coat and mittens and hat and leave them all strewn across the floor. You walk into your room to change out of your snow-spotted jeans and he follows you in to fall face-first on your bed. You change into sweatpants and strip off your sweat-sour shirt and worn-out bra to put on a soft sweatshirt. You and him make your way to to the couch and fall together with open arms. Layers of blankets join in on your cocoon. It's only softness and warmth and the faint smell of cinnamon; barely asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I'm cold and tired all the time? I know it's short, but this is the sort of thing that helps me when I'm all lonesome. I hope you enjoyed. I encourage you to leave a comment, they're always appreciated.


End file.
